#some would deduce points or something

[unionizedwizard]

the first time i really experienced the "oh i am getting old huh" phenomenon, i was 21 & tutoring this lovely little 5th grader living down the street - i was helping with her homework and i noticed her handwriting. i went like "oh, they let you write in script at school now?" "what do you mean?" "well back in my day you would get in big, big trouble if you used anything else than cursive handwriting" "what's a "cursive"?". turns out she wasn't taught cursive at all!

which is wild because, like, not only were we not taught script at all, but teachers acted as though using script was some kind of nefarious deviant behavior. i had this friend in 4th grade who kept getting in HUGE trouble all the time because she wouldnt use cursive at all, like, they called her parents and threatened to have her expelled iirc. this was in the mid 2000's lmao

there was a classist element to it - i noticed that teachers were more likely to assume a student was smart and be more magnanimous in their grading if the student used cursive rather than script (which was considered childish, vulgar, and sometimes girly (derogatory)), used a fountain pen rather than ballpoint, and (sometimes, not always) black ink instead of blue (all other colors were generally banned for graded essays but i got away with using brown ink. i used a calligraphy fountain pen though which helped), though sometimes it was the opposite and black ink was banned with only blue ink allowed (go figure). often teachers would explain these rules to us, proudly even (?). the kind of "girly half-cursive/half-script" with curly letters & tiny hearts dotting the i's was also frowned upon and considered vulgar and a mark of stupidity

i'm glad this is changing at the very least but :( cursive is such a good tool tbh it has so much personality also & nothing is more appropriate for fountain pen use than cursive, so i'm sad this is seemingly disappearing...

[kavehayati]

Someone take me from this rotten household

[pellucid-constellations]

Liminality

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!Reader

Summary: Feyre has learned something about Rhysand's late sister. She decides to speak to Azriel about it—to learn more about the small flecks of grief painted on Azriel's face. She's left with far more than she can cope with.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Angst!! Sadness!! Grief!! (and I might want to fix it)

a/n: I kind of changed things with the timeline of Rhysand's family so that's shifted a bit. I really enjoy the theory that his sister is Azriel's mate so here's part of my take! And what if I poke holes in the plot and make her come back to life what then??

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Feyre thinks that in another life she would be able to ask him outright. Azriel sits across from her at the table, a small smile playing at his lips as the rest of the room pokes fun at Cassian, and Feyre feels the words teetering on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t—wouldn’t. 

Rhysand had told her in confidence. Well, Rhysand had told her in an entirely different context, desperate to share more about his sister on a night that felt too difficult to cope alone. She supposes it would have come out eventually—that Rhysand’s sister was also Azriel’s mate. 

Feyre could not imagine the pain funneling through Azriel every day. Feyre could not conceptualize what it would have felt like to lose Rhys and lose him for good, with no Cauldron to bring him back from the beyond. She did not know how he was standing or breathing or smiling at the table with the rest of their family. 

Granted, Feyre also understands that it had been several years since her death—since your death. Feyre is not judging Azriel, nor is she expecting him to be a shell of himself for eternity just because you were dead. But Feyre wants to ask him something because very little about this situation makes sense to her. She had only learned that you were his mate last night. 

So, later in the night, when almost everyone has gone to bed, Rhysand presses his lips to Feyre’s forehead with a knowing look. She hums out a goodbye and remains sitting with Azriel on the balcony of the house, a bristling chill revealing her secrets as Azriel casually glances over at her. 

“Let's hear it,” he prompts, some of the joy from the room still lingering in his tone. 

Feyre thinks about feigning confusion, but it would be pointless in the face of the spymaster. She pivots until she’s leaning her side against the back of her chair. Azriel raises an amused brow. 

“You don’t—You don’t have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable.” His amused brow shifts into intrigue. Feyre continues, “Rhys told me more about his sister. About y/n—how she was your mate. And I was just wondering… well I’ve never heard you talk about her.” 

Several emotions flit across Azriel’s face. Feyre has a hard time isolating each one, but she finds pain and fondness and conflict within the picture. 

She wants to take the words back. She knows she shouldn't have asked, and the cycle of emotions Azriel seems to be experiencing confirms that truth so glaringly. She opens her mouth to rectify the damage—to say anything that might suck her words back into the cage of her mind, when Azriel speaks. 

“Is,” he nods, his head turned in her direction while his gaze roots on a point along the ground. “She is my mate. Then and now. And I don’t mind talking about her, Feyre. It’s not a bad thing to remember her. I can see how nervous you are.” 

“I just didn’t want to bring anything up that you might not want to remember,” Feyre extends. 

Azriel smiles, soft, bittersweet. “I want to remember everything about her.” 

“Will you tell me about her, then? I’ve heard Rhys’s recount, but I have a feeling yours may be different.” 

Azriel chuckles, the sound echoing in the shifting of his shoulders, and then he pauses, his brows coming together. He leans forward until his elbows rest on his knees and his hands meet in prayer over his mouth. Contemplation, Feyre deduces, but also grief and love and the myriad of other feelings she’s asking him to experience.

“She was everything,” Azriel begins. “She was headstrong and hated being told what to do, but she also cared about everyone and everything far more than she let on. Far more than she should have.” 

“Sounds familiar.”

Azriel’s laugh was a sardonic breath this time around. “Yes, a family trait, I’d guess.” 

“What about when you knew you were mated,” Feyre asks, voice low. 

“I’d known her for several decades by that time. I wasn’t around when she was born or growing up, but things had settled more by the time we met. She was around thirty, I think,” he considers, taking pauses to think and reminisce. “And so she was nearing her centennial when it snapped. Of course, I’d already been in love with her for most of her life, and she’d already been sworn off men by her brother for the rest of it.” 

“Typical,” Feyre scoffs. 

“Yes, he never has quite kicked that overprotectiveness.” 

Azriel wets his lips and then leans back once more, hands splayed out on the arms of the chair. His wings are casually draped along the back, but Feyre can tell by the way his shadows are whizzing around him that Azriel is struggling in some capacity. 

“When it snapped Rhysand obviously punched me in the face.” Feyre stifled a laugh that was mirrored in Azriel’s smirk. His expression then shifted. “But, Gods, I would have let him hit me a hundred times if it meant having her. I can’t remember a time I felt happier, even with the massive bruise under my eye. And Rhys came around, obviously—after he remembered who I was and that my intentions with his sister were never going to be sinister.” 

And then Feyre asked a stupid question, one she would beat herself up over for months to come. “Do you miss her?” 

Azriel’s brows pinched together once more. “Yes,” he replied, voice gravelly and sounding lost. “I don’t know if that’s what you would call this feeling, actually. I feel as if… it feels like the days are never actually over. Like I’m constantly waiting for something. It’s visceral, almost. I… I’ve never said I miss her out loud.” 

The hollow feeling inside of Feyre feels all-consuming. Each breath she releases feels as if it’s sucked out of her near the end and then difficult to catch once restarted. Feyre gently clutches the material at her chest and then places her other hand on Azriel’s knee. 

“I’m sorry—” 

“No, don’t be,” Azriel interrupts, clearing his throat and scrubbing a hand over his face. He leans a bit, placing his hand over hers. “I don’t get to talk about her enough. Others are afraid. I… I miss her. I miss talking about her.” 

Feyre wants to say more; her throat feels tight and she doesn’t know what words might make him feel better, but she has the overwhelming desire to try. Nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say and doesn’t think she ever will. 

The bittersweet sadness on Azriel’s face is making her feel nauseated. There has to be some way to fix this for him, she begins to think, but the only solution is to bring you back. Feyre can do many things, but she can’t do that. She can’t do anything but sit with him as the wind continues to gently glide over their skin and wonder what he’s thinking about. Wonder if he’s thinking about you and everything he was missing. Wonder if this stage of liminality will ever pass for him. If he wants it to.

[under-lore]

What could Sans find out about Flowey ?

By finishing a neutral route over and over again multiple times, Flowey has some unique dialogues in which he mentions various trivia or shares his thoughts on some of the other characters.

One such character is Sans, who Flowey notably gives us a warning about.

However, the way he words that warning feels a little intriguing :

While Sans is generally a very perceptive character who is often capable of making pretty good guesses from limited information, Flowey makes it rather obvious that he is speaking from experience rather than simply making a general comment about Sans' observation skills.

But a question that isn't brought up very often is, what was it exactly that Sans would frequently "find out" about Flowey to warrant this warning ? And how ?

While the question may seem unanswerable at first due to Flowey not giving us any specifics whatsoever, there are a few details scattered throughout the game which may allow us to deduce our way towards what was most likely the intended answer.

First, we know what solution Flowey ended up settling with in order to deal with whatever that issue was : Simply avoiding Sans.

In any given timeline, Flowey took the habit of avoiding to be seen by or around Sans at any point, unless he specifically had something in mind that required him to do so. (such as in the pacifist ending) As a general rule of thumb, he would avoid Sans altogether as much as possible.

However, even with that effort on Flowey's side, a quick mention of a talking flower from Papyrus is already enough to seemingly get Sans at least a little suspicious that something may be up with that.

This is our second clue : The fact that it took Sans so little information for him to get suspicious of what Papyrus told him about a flower.

Our last clue is the few words we hear from Sans after he sees and hears Flowey at the end of the pacifist route :

In order to find out what to make of those clues, we need to introduce a fourth element : Sans' scientific background.

Luckily, none of the more complicated or speculative nuances of that side of his character are required here, all that we need is to highlight his somewhat-hidden friendship with Alphys.

She knows him well enough to call his jokes in advance :

Or here, the game more obviously points out that these two seem surprisingly friendly.

Sans tries to play it off, but it is clear they know a lot more about each other than seems at first glance.

But how much exactly ?

Well...

To go back to our main point, if one were to call Papyrus' phone in front of Alphys' lab, the conversation between the skeletons brothers would eventually deviate towards the question of wether or not Alphys is hiding dogs inside of her lab.

To which Sans answers, winking :

If it had just been this one joke, it may have been a coincidence, but the game doubles down on this exact same implication if you call Papyrus from within the lab as well, showing that this connection between Sans and Endogeny was absolutely intentional :

While the determination experiments were sorely Alphys' entreprise, it appears that Sans was at least made aware of the way they ended up playing out.

We cannot affirm with certainty how much detail exactly Sans has regarding the experiments, but if he is aware for the dogs and possibly even involved in dealing with them (as he had the dog food bag in his room), then he most definitely would also know about the vessel too. It was the main goal, after all.

This vessel had a few particularities.

First, it was a golden flower, the flower from the outside world, chosen for symbolic reasons.

But second, that specific golden flower was chosen because it was different from the rest.

It was at the center of the garden, it had grown before all the others, those were the ones mentioned by Alphys in her entries. But there was one more specificity which she omitted to bring up :

Golden flowers in Undertale are a species of flowers which has 5 petals.

But our "vessel" had a mutation, resulting in an extra 6th petal.

A design choice in part, perhaps, but one that takes a very real in-world importance within this context.

Adding to this that, from the view of the current timeline iteration, the vessel seems to have suddenly vanished one day and...

Since it is likely for Sans to have been aware of all of this, now, it makes a lot of sense that the mere idea of a new mysterious talking flower that says strange things showing up out of nowhere would immediately put him on high alert. A potential connection with the missing vessel is easy to make.

Actually, now that we have this context, even Alphys seems to make the same connection as well after hearing Papyus mentioning a talking flower just before Flowey arrives.

But most of all, it now feels incredibly clear why Flowey needs to avoid being seen by Sans so much.

His entire appearance, and particularly his obvious extra 6th petal, are all dead giveaways of his origins.

Could Sans, who is skilled enough at analysing faces to tell the difference between the face of someone that has died 9 or 10 times in a row, really miss out on such blaring evidence ?

Of course not.

Flowey might as well have written "i am the vessel" on his face with a marker as far as Sans is concerned.

Chances are that merely seeing Flowey even once would be all it takes for Sans to be practically certain that Flowey must be the former vessel.

Not only that, but given that those experiments were all about determination, the so called "resolve to change fate", Flowey would also immediately be considered extremely likely to be the anomaly, too.

This is what we see in this scene :

Not only does Sans get to see Flowey here, but the speech that Flowey makes during this scene also provides him with definitive evidence that Flowey really was the "anomaly" he had been worried about, as his psychological profile matches extremely well with the one Sans shows us to have built for the anomaly in a genocide route. But, it also shows him that Flowey has, for now at least, lost his anomalous time powers to Frisk, and is thus struggling to keep them in his "game".

This suggests that for now, Frisk actually still has the advantage, and that despite all those crazy speeches, without his reset powers, that weirdo has got nothing on them.

But this is all later on in the story.

During Flowey's earlier RESETs, being seen by Sans, even once, quickly becomes a major pain for Flowey in every timeline iteration in which it happens.

At best, he might get "pranked accross time and space" a number of times. At worst, Flowey might have no choice but to reset and start all over again on whatever he was aiming to do.

Except this time around, without letting the smiley trashbag learn ANYTHING about him.

[l0vergirls]

take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

<>

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

<>

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

<>

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

[spiderb00bs]

- RADIO

Natalie Scatorccio x reader 

“She wishes you were playing on the radio” 

Genre – fluff?    Warnings – pre crash (most of the time) 

Now playing – Scary Love, by The Neighbourhood 

"Your love is scaring me, no one has ever cared for me as much as you do"

You ran through the streets, your black converse making the rainwater on the ground splash lightly on your girlfriend's boots. The brunette laughed at your haste, not understanding where exactly you were taking her, but she would follow you wherever you went.   

You were the only thing that kept Nat from going crazy in this shitty town. She could always think of how you were always kind and calm, how you always managed to leave her in a state of tranquillity and comfort that she had never had in her entire life.   

She always forgets all her problems if she has you by her side.   

Like now, you have a firm grip on her hand as you run through the streets, dodging some of the people passing by. As soon as Nat's training session was over, and she came out of the changing rooms, you were there, with your skateboard strapped to your back, a big smile appearing on your face when you saw her.   

“Where are you taking me, nerd?” The smile on her face was all the confirmation you needed to know that she was loving it all.   

You and Nat didn't have a car, but it was never a problem for either of you to get around. In fact, you felt incredibly free.   

“Can't you ever wait for my surprises, Nat?” The confident smile was on your face. And when you stopped and turned to Nat, she really wanted to be able to wipe that little smile off your face with a kiss. “We're here!”  

Pointing to the store, Nat concentrated on that for the first time, looking through the glass door before you opened it, making a cheesy sign for her to go in first. The bell that sounded when you opened the door alerted the old man at the till, one of the only men in this town you didn't hate.   

“ What's up, Mr. Jones?” You greeted the old man while Nat was too mesmerized by everything to pay attention.  

“Hey kid.” He said, waving to you before pointing his head in Nat's direction. “Is that your lucky girl?”   

Hearing the old man's words, Nat turned her head towards the two of you, surprised that the man hadn't deduced that you were just friends, or worse, said something offensive.   

“Yes, that's her.” You pretended to whisper, making Nat roll her eyes and the old man laugh slightly.   

Still watching the interaction, Nat saw you lean against the counter - where the old man was standing - making you seem very intimate with the place.  

“You know she's too pretty for you, right?!” The man said, and Nat could see the playful glint in his eyes.   

“Like Tommy is for you.”   

Laughing, the old man patted Nat on the back. Making Nat - even confused - try to hide a smile that was very close to breaking out.   

Leaving the counter, you went over to your girlfriend, pulling her through the shelves full of books, movie tapes and unusual statues to another part of the store. If she was already enchanted before, your girlfriend was amazed when she saw all the vinyl records you were showing her. Every band, every artist, every possible style was there. Nat's eyes didn't seem to follow everything in front of her.  

You know your girlfriend was a big music lover, and you'd given her a record player for her last birthday, but you knew she could never find records by the bands she liked, and when she finally did, the price was way above what she could afford.   

“Yn, what's all this?” Nat asked, turning in your direction when she finally came out of her second trance.   

“Well, remember when I said I got a job?” Seeing her nod, you smiled slightly. “I work here. I thought it was really cool, and I'd thought about bringing you here the same day Mr. Jones gave me the job. But then he showed me this part of the store, he said I'd also be in charge of looking after the records, and that I could buy some at an employee discount, so I thought you...” 

Suddenly, your train of thought was cut off by Natalie's lips on yours. You were startled by the sudden movement, but soon relaxed into the tenderness of the kiss. Your girlfriend's lips tasted like strawberry, and you loved that more than anything. Your hands went to the girl's slender waist almost automatically, your muscle memory acting in such a rush that Natalie almost laughed at you. The black-haired girl's arms were entwined around your neck, and you could feel that she was tiptoeing to reach you.   

“So...” You said, trying to catch your breath after Natalie's kiss. Opening your eyes, you ran into the clear eyes of your girlfriend, who had her lips between her teeth, trying to hold back a smile that was threatening to escape. “Shall we choose some records?!”  

Soft music was playing on the record player in your room, you and Nat knew that she wasn't allowed to sleep in your house, but nothing her parents said was worth more than what you did with her.   

“I don't know that band...” You said, running your fingers through her hair.   

“I know you don't, you only like the overrated idiots.” She said, smiling at you, letting you know that she was just teasing you.   

“You know, I'm going to love watching you try to intimidate me when I'm playing on the radio.” You said, referring to the band you have with your best friends.  

Nat always came to all your band's rehearsals, and she knows that you guys would definitely be successful one day. She thought the songs were great, your lyrics were brilliant, and she didn't want to be a snob, but she loved being your muse.   

“What? Are you going to have your fans attack me?” Nat leaned in, a sarcastic smile on her face as she came very close to your mouth.   

“No, only I can attack you!”   

Jumping on top of the brunette, you kissed all over her face, making your girlfriend giggle like a child at the carnival.   

Looking at the photo of you that she was carrying, Nat let a solitary tear fall, putting a hand over her mouth so as not to make a sound to any of the girls in the old hut.   

The cold of the night mixed with the cold of her heart without you. The blonde doesn't expect you to be waiting for her, if she ever gets rescued. But she wishes you were playing on the radio.    

hi guys. No requests this time, it's just me being in love with Nat.

Idk if any Brazilians follow this account, but the plot was inspired by a Brazilian song.

anyway, drink water and stay safe

xoxo, spider

[takes1]

PLEASE I NEED MATSUKAWA OR KUNUMI OR EVEN MADDOG PLEASE IM BEGGING 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🙏

thankz ::3 -🩻

clingy!kentarou x reader (taming maddog)

heyyyy :) finally getting to this hope it's aight

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / riding maddog / 69 / obsessive!maddog / clingy!needy!maddog / possessive!maddog / loneliness theme / 'i can fix him' trope / libero!reader / johsai girls' team reader / maddog being canonically mean / implied virginity / experienced!reader / emotionally intelligent reader / emotionally stunted maddog / 3.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3

"(Y/n), like, I know you've got a type and all..."

"Mhmm," You follow absentmindedly, tracking your latest obsession like a hawk.

Number 16 was different- not just attractive, but he had a threatening, intense, sharp presence about him. He was just about the only member of the guys' team who didn't subscribe to a cheerful, cooperative environment. His little outburst earlier caught your attention, and he was currently benched for pushing Oikawa.

He sure was aggressive. You bit your lip and watched him stretch from the bleachers.

"But I heard he's actually crazy."

The other girls on your team would never understand what possessed you to put yourself in danger, going after the most deviant of guys you could find. It was an endearing joke amongst the team, at this point, but they did worry for your safety.

"What's his name?" You looked to them for the first time, mind already made up.

Whispers of Kentarou, Kyoutani, Maddog, were shared as you settled back to watching him. Lots of horror stories of him getting in trouble, getting into fights, yelling at teachers, other students, getting suspended for a time all encouraged you. The nickname he earned made you significantly more fascinated.

You could fix him. It would at least be fun to try.

You couldn't help but ponder where his true fault lied, how it twisted into so much unwarranted aggression.

Was he not held as a baby? Did he have a bad home life? Had it manifested into some kind of sexual dysfunction? You wondered if he was this big of a presence in the bedroom. You smiled at the strong possibility that he wasn't.

Maybe that was a bit Freudian of you to assume, but your previous diagnoses hadn't steered you wrong yet. The guys you slept with were all weirdos- losers- psychos- and yet, they were all a step closer to normal after a little love.

They couldn't stop you from approaching, especially when nobody had the guts to go anywhere near him.

"Hi," You tapped his shoulder after a bout of hesitation.

He looked to the side, then behind, and realized you were referring to him.

His brow fell from its subtle version of surprise, making all his features look heavier, meaner-- you shuddered.

"Yo." Was all he said.

Though dismissive and already uncomfortable, it was enough to work with.

You smoothed out your uniform with a nervous sigh, "Um- I'm sorry if this is forward, but,"

"I think you're really cute. I'd like to go on a date, sometime."

Kentarou looked angry even when he was shocked. The dark around his eyes made it impossible to look soft, and it seemed he didn't have the capacity to smile yet.

The only way you could deduce that he was embarrassed was the way his hands balled into fists at his sides, how he looked around your face over, over, and over again for an ounce of insincerity.

It was adorable. You giggled at his long silence.

Laughing shut him down. His mouth curled in a sneer, positive you were laughing at him.

The gaggle of girls, filling the entrance to the gym, all clad in your uniform, wasn't great for optics. It looked like you were playing a prank on him.

"Are you kiddin' me?" He rolled his eyes before you could even try to explain, "Go fuck yourself."

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Though you loved your team, visible swarms of women never put the guys you went after at ease.

That rejection was still tame for what you had seen before from him.

He put his back to you and crossed his arms, watching the game, instead. Getting benched and made fun of couldn't have been a great feeling.

Determined now, you shook out your nerves and tapped his shoulder again.

"Tch-! I said fuck off!" He scowled down at you, but you knew it was misguided. So it didn't hurt as bad.

You purposefully didn't mirror his body language- you didn't want him to cut him off even more. You stood facing him at an angle, trying to catch his eye and take his attention again.

Voice quiet, sweeter, genuine, "I'm serious."

Even if this was a joke, you were the most persistent he had ever seen. Nobody usually got this far. If he told somebody to leave, they did. Especially after the second time, and a girl, at that.

"I mean- I get it if you're not into short girls, that's totally fine," You fixed your hair, glancing away from his overwhelmed, slow expression, "But, please, just... think about it. Here's my number."

For a moment, you were unsure if he would take the paper in your hand. He gave you zero indication that he believed your story, but after just enough time to make you doubt, he took it.

Kentarou held it tight, confused, as you joined your team to leave the gym. He watched them look over and preen you like birds to make sure you weren't hurt.

It could've been a real confession. The gravity of it didn't truly land until he was back home, looking up the girls' team Instagram to find your personal handle. You were following the page and even had a few features in their posts.

Doubts began to grow that it was your real number. He decided he didn't want to use it.

Instead, he lay on his bed, palming himself to the poses of your greatest receives- you were such a pretty girl, with a nice body, cute face--reminded of those things now, it only made him more skeptical at your choice to speak to him.

Luck was on his side once again, because your own profile was public. You even had a few beach posts. Lots of likes, lots of followers. You wouldn't notice if he liked a few of them, unless you were being honest about your interest.

You were all over his signals in a flash.

A follow, a bit of page-stalking that got you nowhere (because he had 0 online presence, other than a couple blank accounts), and a long string of messages that went deep into the night, all earned you a date.

Now that the game had officially begun, you needed to curate each move carefully. If you waited too long to take advantage of any clear signs of interest, he wouldn't find you worth the trouble. You needed some dick.

Kentarou was lonely, too.

It was as you suspected, monitoring him during that practice match. People who had a good support system didn't act that way he did.

He wasn't wistful, or desperate, and didn't invite friendship. Shit, he barely let you court him, and the only way you could convince him to meet you for coffee was if you sent a few pictures 'to prove it was just you.' And yet, after the one misunderstanding, he didn't deny you any opportunity to get close.

His experiences shaped him to be incredibly firm, mistrusting, and overly cautious, yes; It all fell short though, when it came to the very simple, universal longing for companionship.

The cafe wasn't too quiet, thankfully.

You were most worried about the possibility of him causing some sort of commotion and being asked to leave, but other patrons were lively enough to drown him out, if he did raise his voice.

To your surprise, that also wasn't much of an issue.

He ordered for the two of you, even -begrudgingly- accepting that you wanted a more intricate drink, too. He didn't let you do much for yourself. When he told you to go find a seat while he waited at the counter, you stayed with him so you could be close. He still didn't argue.

Though he wasn't polite, he wasn't a monster. He was just brimming with attitude, and that rubbed people the wrong way. When unprovoked, he was mean-looking, sure, but docile.

A predatory gaze watched the skirt of your casual dress flutter up- just a little, not quite enough- as you sat down next to him with your elaborate drink in hand. He set his cup down and you felt his leg flex as you closed the distance to snuggle up to him.

"You're taking this joke pretty far."

Insecurity filled the quiet between his words, and it took a sensitive ear to detect under all the venom. Was he testing you? Probably. Was he still trying to protect himself? Absolutely.

"Mm," You considered how to respond while sipping on your coffee, staring forward, not really minding his intensity, "I don't have the kind of time to go on fake dates, you know."

It was an argument less emotional in nature, but due to its legitimacy, it left him stumped enough to drop the subject.

In its wake remained discomfort. Mostly at your thigh, busy rubbing against him as you pretended to be more invested in the ambience of the cafe, or the flavor of the drink in your hands.

"What're you doing it for?" He pressed, different, but still carried with a grumbly, shitty attitude he always spoke in.

That took some getting used to, but once you understood he just talked that way, you were able to take his words at face value and waste less time miscommunicating.

A warm hand, palming the squish of your bare thigh encouraged your desire to be honest.

You waited for him to stop scanning the cafe, for the right moment to tell him.

His eyes dipped first to your pretty thighs, all soft and warm and new in his hand. Then he was taken by the all the sweetness in the way you looked at him.

"I wanna sleep with you."

You expected him to not believe you, like the first time, but his surprise was now pretty conventional.

His mouth hung open, just a little, and you noticed a tongue piercing. How did you miss it before? Did he not wear it at school? Your thighs tightened and he met it with a firm squeeze as he took a sobering drink of his coffee.

It was obvious he wanted to know why. But he was looking for something better to say, instead.

"The fuck are we doing here?"

That was a good question. Such a good question, in fact, that after a bit of conversation about where to go to fuck, you landed on going back to your place.

He made himself comfortable on your bed as you shut the door and locked it, just in case. Your room didn't have a whole lot of conversation starters, so he took a while to really examine it.

He wasn't witty, or spontaneous, or chatty.

There was no value in sitting around, acting like you wanted to delve into a discussion about each other's families, or grades, or volleyball.

His brow softened as you dropped the straps of your dress down.

There was a small attempt to look you in the eye, which you appreciated in a very limited context, but once you kept going, he might as well have been wearing a collar.

A half-sigh, half-laugh pushed out of his open mouth, brow furrowed again, as he tried to speak a few times while you posed for him, drunk on such a cute, endearing reaction.

There were a lot of things for him to think about. You could almost smell the smoke of grinding gears when you stood in front him and rubbed your hands against his shoulders.

He kept getting his fill, eyes unable to stay in one place too long, practically trying to back up so he could keep looking at all of you.

You giggled, "Kentarou?"

His breath stopped. You couldn't feel it, tingling across your skin, anymore.

You took some fingers to his curly hair, playing with it, "Aren't you gonna touch me?"

"I-," He didn't know what to do with himself for a moment, "Where?"

Your charmed, bitten back smile made his ears bright, bright red. Instead of telling him, you settled onto his lap and felt for his hands, gently guiding them towards your hips.

It was slow, natural, and gentle how you decided to kiss him.

You could feel how heated he was, with one hand on the back of his neck, the other cooling off the side of his face. One second to part for some breath, which he needed, badly- you waited for him to say something.

But he was forcing his mouth back onto yours quicker than you thought he would- his fingers dug into your flesh, and he brought you down onto his hard-on with a sudden loss of reservation.

It didn't take long to start catching that little tongue piercing against your lip- you groaned against his mouth, "Fuck, I really like that."

He was a fast, eager, and very rough learner. Kentarou was also laughably easy to please, because it was obvious he had no preferences built up yet. Everything you did left him stunned and hungry.

You reveled in your private victory and helped him undress. He wasn't shy about his own body, but you made it clear that he had a nice figure by taking the time to kiss along his muscular arm, then shoulder, and up to his neck.

His quickness to mirror you, kissing the same places on your body, was cute. He never once smiled, but he showed his investment in other ways.

When you offered to 69, he immediately fell onto his back from his upright position, rubbing his warm face.

A weak, "Yes," from under his palms was all you got, but it was so sweet from a guy like him. He sounded broken in, in a way.

You pressed a deserving kiss to his jaw and turned around.

His cock looked just as angry as he was, normally. Twitchy, leaking a bit of precum on his toned tummy, tinged dark with the all the time it had been waiting.

"You're- so fuckin' wet," He sounded stunned to say that aloud, understand what it actually meant, and that he was obsessed with it.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the base of his cock as you settled into a good position.

How long had it been since you got laid? Apparently too long, because you were dripping with anticipation at the salty taste of his tip sliding past your teeth.

That was the downside of having such a specific type. Not many options.

He was still figuring out how to use his own mouth when you took the breath out of him- a strangled gasp at the sound, the sensation of your lips and tongue sucking off the slickness there. You held him by the base, briefly.

"You should let me know if you like it," You teased, just before bobbing your head back down.

"Mm-mmnh-! Fuck! Do I-ahh, have to?"

With that whiny tone?

You slowly came back up, careful to leave no spit behind. He was flexing in your jaw, his stomach twitching against your chest. Poor thing wouldn't last very long, he was so sensitive.

"Uhh, yes," You grinned, tongue darting out to lick him all the way down his shaft.

"Fuuuck- whatever- augh, just keep doin' that," His groan broke into a murmur of sorts, against your pussy.

From there, he was starting to find what worked with you. It was curious, and not great, but you didn't need it to be; something about the clingy way he held you, the shift in his attitude, was making you feel like you could take him already.

It made your nails dig, deep into his thighs, your already sparse breath grow a bit shorter.

Though his desperate tone and slow, gentle tongue made some parts of you tighten, it helped your throat relax and take more of him.

He started to come apart long before you wanted to be done.

Breathy, incomplete "Stopstop-sta-aah," every twenty seconds flattered you, letting you take more frequent breaks to ride his face and break in that little metal ball.

You thought about his nickname during one of these breaks. It was one of those instances where it seemed fitting, but for more than just surface-level aggression.

Nothing about him scared you. Not after you showed him that you had no ill-intention. He was like a dog. He wasn't vicious because it was in his nature; he just had a thorn in his paw.

He 'bit' people because they didn't give him a chance.

All of these chances you were giving him proved that he was worth all the effort to get close. It wasn't even much work, in hindsight.

You showed him the mechanics of the condom you brought for the occasion, and managed to talk him through some important sex-centered courtesies.

"So, y'know, you'll want to yield to whatever she's ready for--,"

Kentarou kept you from sitting on his cock, for just a second-- his eyes grew narrow, darting around your face.

"You mean: 'you.'" He corrected.

He looked like he was about to bite through your face.

"Right!" You smiled, growing a bit warm at your inconsiderate slip in language, "Yeah, of course."

Your apologetic kisses, smattered all along his sensitive face and neck, calmed him. His grip softened, slowly, as he became convinced that this was sacred again.

As you started to take him, he forgot all about it.

"Aughh- my go-d," He couldn't stop watching where you came together with a knotted brow, at how slick, and tight, and hot you were.

Your confidence read in the form of slow, rolling motions of your hips, the cloudy look in your eyes as you were finally getting filled up again after such a dry spell of no dick. You put your hands over his, already on your hips, and encouraged him to squeeze harder.

"Mmn-ah-h," You placed your hands on his chest, to keep yourself upright.

It hurt, how much he reciprocated that squeeze, but you quickly learned to like the sting.

Like most everything else, he replicated what you showed him. He started fucking you back, his hips able to take you faster, harder--

The pretty little pout on your lips was enough to make him screw his eyes shut, just to try to settle down.

He was getting so worked up at your tight little cunt that he was forced to let you keep your slower pace, contribute a little less, for fear he'd finish too soon.

His breath was like a stutter- so shallow and huffy that you rubbed your hand across his cheek, to check if he was okay. As you did this, the look in his eyes burned into the back of your skull.

You had seen that somewhere before. Not in someone you knew personally.

"Mm-mnh-!"

You were careful not to look away from it, and you only closed your eyes when it was too intense, too good to see straight.

The way he gripped you was like a lifeline, clawing, leaving rough and raised lines across you-- It wasn't intended to hurt, but more or less to make sure he left you with some lasting impression. He didn't understand that he didn't need to do it.

He couldn't take the concern on your face. Not as you fucked him so close, not with that perfect body taking his cock so well. Nobody ever looked at him with so much warmth.

"Ah! Just- just like that," You gasped, shaky all of a sudden.

"Fuck-," He sighed, suddenly having to remember what exactly he was doing.

He grimaced, face twisted in the pain of trying not to cum, head thrown back so he didn't have to look at you.

But your hand left his chest to grasp him by the jaw- it wasn't hard, but it was enough to move him. You begged him to look at you. You wanted him to watch you, and it looked like he was just short of a confessing something sinful.

Worship.

That's what you saw. In those narrowed eyes were praise, an exaltation of the love you had spared for him.

It filled you with a dizzying, raw confidence- you took in a breath through your nose, getting railed so hard, so close that your eyes started watering.

"Fuck- I'm-Ah--!" You couldn't quite finish your sentence before you crashed over, your body seized up, firm, grabbing and gripping him like you needed, wanted him so bad.

It left him a groveling, panting mess underneath you. He was watching in awe just like you told him to, only allowed to cum after you were done.

He fucked it all out of you, thanks to the timing. Your slow wave-riding kept you pleasant and buzzed as he fucked you hard for his own orgasm.

You even egged him on, breathless, a little smirk only interrupted by a pleasurable wince a couple of times.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Yeah? Yeah?"

After finishing so loud and performative, nothing could have prepared you for how cuddly and silent he got.

You shouldn't have given into the desire to hug him, because he wouldn't let you move to pull him out.

"Mm-mm," Was pressed in a sloppy kiss against your neck.

Those muscular arms were shaking a little, just barely, around your waist.

"I'm- not going anywhere," You laughed, returning a few light kisses against his temple, "But we need to clean up."

He made it difficult, almost impossible, to separate and throw the condom away. You opted to just tie in a knot and throw it closer to the trash can so you didn't have to get up.

The way he watched you was careful, intense, looking for any opening to get closer to you again.

You finally sighed, smiling, "Okay."

Kentarou pulled you back down to lay next to him at the soonest opportunity. He kept an arm heavy over your chest, his leg kicked between yours, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

His intensity was what you signed up for, but now, warm under his persistent and acute attention, you realized: maybe you hadn't thought this through the whole way.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[sabertoothwalrus]

I think I’ve deduced exactly what year this chapter cover takes place.

First off I love this page 🥺 initially I had assumed that it was all different points of time. or if it was the same time, perhaps a couple years prior to the start of the series.

At first glance I thought this one of Laios and Falin was in their room on the island, but looking closer, they’re definitely kids. That fur-lined coat Laios is wearing and Falin’s round cheeks makes it clear. So, according to the adventurer’s bible, it has to be year 500 or earlier, since that’s when Laios was still living at home.

This is the magic school, which Marcille did not start attending until 499, so it has to be after that.

now INITIALLY when I saw this,I assumed the previous two were more recent, so this one took place at a much earlier point in time, if it’s supposed to be Chilchuck’s family. But then I remembered the adventurer’s bible mentioning him renting his house out to family after his wife left, and this is that extended family (he has two older and two younger siblings). BUT THEN after realizing the other two were much earlier, this could be year 500, especially since that’s the year Puckpatti was born. That would mean the baby is her, the child on the left is Meijack, the one on the right is Flertom (and Chilchuck still keeps that toy Flertom has in his office), and his wife is the one wiping Meijack’s face.

Senshi in the dungeon obviously. A wide range of time this scene could cover, but he was living like this during year 500, so it tracks.

NOW THIS. I thought was Izutsumi pawning her onions off to Tade, like had been shown in the manga already. But if this was the year 500…. Izutsumi was born in 497. She wasn’t taken from her family (and turned into a beast-man) until she was 6, and didn’t start living with the Nakamoto family until she was 10. So either this is her as a three-year-old with her parents, or this is the one section that isn’t during the year 500.

It does look like she has kitty traits, but it’s possible Kui hadn’t solidified her backstory & timeline yet. The more recent comic that implies “Izutsumi was originally a cat beast that got some human soul stapled on” makes her human past a little less clear. The comically tall bowl of rice does look like something Tade would have, so it’s hard to say.

tldr: year 500 (except maybe Izutsumi’s?)

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

like hollywood and me; that diamond on your ring

synopsis ; diamond rings? pretty common. but diamond rings on your left ring finger while dating the world’s most famous soccer player? definitely not common.

cw ; isagi x fem!reader, characters are aged up (isagi is 24)

now playing ; margaret by lana del rey

isagi yoichi was always among the most trending searches on any platform. usually, it was to search up some sort of incredible goal that he scored or some sort of insult he had thrown at a teammate. occasionally it would be about his relationship with you, perhaps after a cute and romantic social media post or something lovesick that he did with you after a match, such as immediately running over to you and kissing you.

but this time, the most trending search for isagi was isagi marriage.

paparazzi and journalists went crazy, fans went crazy, everyone went crazy. all because of a instagram post made by you, isagi’s girlfriend, of all people. it was a picture of your left hand, except there was something more to it. a gleaming blue diamond sat atop an intricately designed golden band on your ring finger.after zooming in and a few hours of analysis later, a fan even deduced that your name was on the band of the ring. the caption for your post? well, it certainly didn’t help anyone calm down.

guess who just got engaged? @realisagiyoichi, love you🫶

fans and other celebrities bombarded the comment section with both disbelief and congratulatory responses, although some bitter fans left some pretty nasty hate comments, but opposed to what you expected, the responses were overwhelmingly positive.

bachibeemegs : WHATWHATWHAT YOU AND ISAGI ARE GETTING MARRIED CONGRATS!!!🎉🥳👏🎊

reomikageofficial : Congratulations, Isagi and (Y/n). I’m happy for you guys and I wish you guys a happy marriage.

nagisei : congrats :x

shidoufreakyusei : guys im the flower girl trust😈

chigiri.hyoma : you bagged a baddie. im surprised. but congrats anyways, isagi and (y/n).

otoyaeitabrrrr : dont fumble the baddie isagi

karasutabitoe : Congratulations. Try not to get her to divorce you.

hioriyonoquierodinero : Congratulations!😊

charleschevalirizzler : skibidi sigma ohio isagi, you have so much rizz

michaelkaiser_official : ew

isagi took a deep breath, standing right outside the exit of the bastard münchen hq, getting ready for any questions that the media could bombard him with. he had left extra early today just so he could avoid intrusive questions at 8 in the morning, but now that it was 4 in the afternoon, he can’t avoid those questions any longer.

he stepped outside, and just as expected, paparazzi cameras instantly flashed into his eyes as the media crowded him. “isagi, isagi! can you please tell us about your marriage?”

“will you be taking a break from soccer?”

“will you be retiring?”

“do you want any kids?”

“when’s the wedding?”

“does this deny the rumors that you and bachira are gay?”

“uh, one at a time, please.” isagi stated, standing stiff as a board. he should be used to the media already, but he was still just a bit shy with them. “i’ll be taking a break. maybe for seven or eight months; honestly, as long as i can get. i won’t be retiring. kids…yeah, definitely want some, but that’s (y/n)’s choice, not mine. the wedding will probably be sometime in the summer. we’re still planning.” he ignored the last question.

poor isagi was stuck there in the media’s grasp for almost an entire hour before he finally mustered up enough courage to stop the interviews and drive home, his social battery completely drained at this point. stepping into your shared apartment, isagi practically collapsed onto the couch.

“you good? you look dead.” you remarked, stabbing him with a spatula.

“nooooo, leave me alone, im dead.” isagi muttered, turning around to lay on his side. “i really hate paparazzi.” your cat came over, jumping onto the couch and laying on isagi’s body. “why is she so heavy…?”

“you fatten her up all the time, maybe that’s why.” you replied. “get up, fatass. i made dinner.” you poked him with a spatula once more. “i made katsudon.”

isagi nearly jumped up, your cat practically slipping off of his body. “really?! thanks, i really love you!” isagi exclaimed, practically sprinting over to the kitchen. you sat on the couch, holding your fluffy cat in your hands.

“god, your dad’s such a big back. you get your genes from him.” you murmured, stroking your cat’s fur as she purred. “imagine he gets a beer belly when he’s in his forties. now that’ll be hilarious.”

“hey! i heard that!”

you ignored him, continuing to talk to and stroke your cat. but isagi stood leaning against the kitchen’s doorway, arms crossed, his eyes soft as he stared at you. at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter if you were engaged or married or dating. he loved you, no matter what label anyone puts on it.

domesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagidomesticisagi

[3lyvshiro]

𐙚 ⋆₊˚ 4:44..ᐟ

suna rintaro and yn ln were perfect for eachother.

It wasnt unusual for people to find suna cold and intimidating. understandably, i mean it wasnt exactly like he was rubbing elbows with everyone.. and his height at the ripe age of 17 did nothing to help.

thats why it didnt surprise suna when atsumu told him of the girls that approached him earlier that day, first years, he mentioned, shyly blushing and asking him if suna-senpai was single.

Atsumu groaned as he retold the story to Suna, muttering about how he had to shut them down for him. He didnt know if they were just unaware, or didnt get the memo, but No, Suna is not single. Suna is very much taken. everyone knows suna was taken. Atsumu grimaced.

He didnt need to wonder why these juniors couldnt just approach him themselves, because he already knew why. anyone who observes suna rintaro can easily tell he was unemotional and standoffish.

Suna is an objectively unnapproachable guy.

That, paired with his girlfriend who was, if possible, a hundred times colder than he was. she's the literal ice queen of inarizaki.

Atsumu thought back to every time he's interacted wih her. It wasnt like she was completely a bitch or something, of course not. But even if she was, he'd rather chop his tongue off than say that to her face. And it wasnt like she was uptight or couldnt joke around or something like that. yn was actually pretty fun. he deduced that from when suna brought her with him on a hangout with the boys, only for him to ditch them to go on a date with her.

from their minimal interactions, atsumu will admit, yn is fun. she's joked around eith him before, and he's seen her playfully poke fun at others. she's just generally intimidating and unnapproachable.

thats why It was easy to assume that the relationship between suna and yn would be bland and lack romance and emotions or whatever.

Many people think that they either treat eachother horribly, or that theyre in a fake relationship. Seeing two of the most standoffish people together, romantically, was bound to raise some eyebrows.

atsumu forgets that not everyone knows the exact story of how suna and yn came to be. People who arent close with suna wouldnt know.

they wouldnt know of how shy and borderline lame suna was, back when he was still crushing on yn.

they wouldnt know of the ratio from suna before yn to suna after yn. he noticably got happier, to the point it was literally so hard not to notice.

they wouldnt know of the massive crush suna had on her. it was the fattest crush ever, and god, they wouldnt even suspect that he was the one between them who texted first, who approached the other first, who made the first move. the guy moved mountains just to get closer to her.

suna rintaro was so ridiculously down bad.

thats why, atsumu was sure. no one knows shit about suna and yn. they can say what they want about the relationship being bland or lacking passion, but only the people most close to suna would know.

only they'd know of how hard he fell for yn.

only they'd know of how passionate suna is for yn.

only they'd know how serious suna is about her.

only theyd be able to see the look he gets in his eyes whenever his eyes are on her.

only they see that- that smile he gets on his face whenever he gets to be with her.

yeeep. atsumu is sure.

suna rintaro is not standoffish. not when he looks at his girl with so many emotions its disgusting. not when all the walls around him crumble down at the sight of his girl. suna may be distant to other people, but its completely different when its her.

the same thing goes for yn too. its not true that shes unemotional because how could she, when she looks at suna like he hung up the stars for her. how could she, when her face absolutely lights up every time she gets to be with her boyfriend?

yn ln is not unapproachable. how could she be, when she managed to get suna rintaro to make the first move on her, to text her first, to take the lead in their relationship?

suna and yn are a match made in heaven.

hey peanuts 💓back w my suna x cold!reader agenda@#?#? omg the gap between this post and my last post

and if u enjoyed, pls dont forget to reblog! comments, feedback and reblogs are always so so so appreciated!!!🤍🤍🤍

[reachartwork]

how to write fight scenes

many people have told me that Chum has good fight scenes. a small subset of those people have asked me on advice for how to write fight scenes. i am busy procrastinating, so i have distilled my general ethos on fight scenes into four important points. followed by a homework assignment.

Fight scenes take place on two axii - the physical and the intellectual. For the most interesting fight scenes, neither character should have a full inventory of the other's abilities, equipment, fighting style, etc. This gives you an opportunity to pull out surprises, but, more importantly, turns each fight into a jockeying of minds, as all characters involved have to puzzle out what's going on in real time. This is especially pertinent for settings with power systems. It feels more earned if the characters are trying to deduce the limitations and reach of the opponent's power rather than the opponent simply explaining it to them (like in Bleach. Don't do that). 1a. Have characters be incorrect in their assumptions sometimes, leading to them making mistakes that require them to correct their internal models of an opponent under extreme pressure. 1b. If you really have to have a character explain their powers to someone there should be a damn good reason for it. The best reason is "they are lying". The second best reason is "their power requires it for some reason".

Make sure your blows actually have weight. When characters are wailing at each other for paragraphs and paragraphs and nothing happens, it feels like watching rock 'em sock 'em robots. They beat each other up, and then the fight ends with a decisive blow. Not interesting! Each character has goals that will influence what their victory condition is, and each character has a physical body that takes damage over the course of a fight. If someone is punched in the gut and coughs up blood, that's an injury! It should have an impact on them not just for the fight but long term. Fights that go longer than "fist meets head, head meets floor" typically have a 'break-down' - each character getting sloppier and weaker as they bruise, batter, and break their opponent, until victory is achieved with the last person standing. this keeps things tense and interesting.

I like to actually plan out my fight scenes beat for beat and blow for blow, including a: the thought process of each character leading to that attempted action, b: what they are trying to do, and c: how it succeeds or fails. In fights with more than two people, I like to use graph paper (or an Excel spreadsheet with the rows turned into squares) to keep track of positions and facings over time.

Don't be afraid to give your characters limitations, because that means they can be discovered by the other character and preyed upon, which produces interesting ebbs and flows in the fight. A gunslinger is considerably less useful in a melee with their gun disarmed. A swordsman might not know how to box if their sword is destroyed. If they have powers, consider what they have to do to make them activate, if it exhausts them to use, how they can be turned off, if at all. Consider the practical applications. Example: In Chum, there are many individuals with pyrokinetic superpowers, and none of them have "think something on fire" superpowers. Small-time filler villain Aaron McKinley can ignite anything he's looking at, and suddenly the fight scenes begin constructing themselves, as Aaron's eyes and the direction of his gaze become an incredibly relevant factor.

if you have reached this far in this essay I am giving you homework. Go watch the hallway fight in Oldboy and then novelize it. Then, watch it again every week for the rest of your life, and you will become good at writing fight scenes.

as with all pieces of advice these are not hard and fast rules (except watching the oldboy hallway fight repeatedly) but general guidelines to be considered and then broken when it would produce an interesting outcome to do so.

okay have a good day. and go read chum.

[anaargent]

ANOTHER FIVE?

FIVE HARGREEVESxREADER

*After watching season 4, we became orphans and widows. But the idea of a coffee shop with a bunch of fives is not bad at all.* (this is my first attempt)

.

.

-Stay here with Allison, I'll be back soon - Five said with a soft look as he lightly squeezed her hand, before letting go and turning around. You watched apprehensively as he walked to Lila and they disappeared together in a space jump.

-Well, maybe we should go after Klaus then - you said, looking at Allison, with no idea of ​​when Five would return and give some satisfaction.

It shouldn't bother you so much anymore, the sudden disappearances, the lack of explanations, it had been six years, maybe you should expect more than a sincere relationship with Five. But you still waited, you still clung to any minimal show of affection you managed to get from him, even if it was a simple handshake.

You didn't know Five before his chaotic return in 2019, old hargreeves adopted you years after his early disappearance, for some reason you were younger than your 'brothers', but he never explained to you why. He called you 'the void', claiming that one day you would be very useful to the team, that day never came.

dinner at Diego and Lila's house

Something was different, you knew it the moment Five and Lila returned in the middle of Christmas dinner, faces closed and thoughtful. You didn't dare ask, but you could deduce from the looks the two shared. Then Diego noticed, then the whole family noticed. You were silent, what should you say? that she felt betrayed by the revelation that Five could show affection so freely after 7 hours with Lila, and not with you despite everything they had together?

It's over anyway, you let out a bitter laugh, finally gaining Five's attention, the attention you had been chasing so hard to gain - I guess we're settled then.

You really wanted to come out on top of all this shit, with grace and maturity after being dumped. But then Diego attacked Five, the same Diego who took care of you after your entire family dissolved and you had no one, the same Diego who took you to live in his not-so-safe apartment while he became a sort of vigilante at night.

-we're not done when we don't even have something solid- five says with his superior tone ,maybe it wasn't on purpose, maybe you had underestimated Five's talent and sensitivity for human relations up until that point.

Who could blame you, right? - You son of a bitch - when you realized, your hands were connected to Five's perfectly aligned hair, pulling with all your strength. Then everything became a mass of people, Klaus and Allison in the distance shouting "pull harder S/N!", Diego and Luther grabbing me in an attempt to get me off Five, who was trying not to lose all his hair, and Lila trying to pull Five back.

-What the hell is going on here? - A deep voice rang out above all the noise, everyone froze and looked towards the door, where a Five, looking more adult and rumpled than the Five I was attacking, stood in the doorway.

Everyone shared a lost look, watching the new five jump especially in the middle of the crowd and separate you and your five - I looked for you in so many timelines, darling - the adult five smiled sweetly, caressing your cheek, it would be a lie to say that this didn't shock you. - And you - he turned to the disheveled five - we need to talk

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Derpsheep; a fake cryptid and a real romantic. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Does Superboy still think you’re actually an actual cryptid city spirit thing?” Steph says, staring incredulously at him. “Did he think that when he made you the diamond? The heart-shaped diamond?” 

“. . . uh,” Robin says, still wincing. “He kind of just . . . showed up with it? Like. We never, uh, actually met before that? But uh, he knows the Bats kind of . . . stalk people, sort of, so I think he thinks it’s like our love language or something, so, uh, he was doing that? Apparently? And then he stopped Catwoman from robbing a museum and dropped her off on me and, uh. Had the diamond. And, uh. Gave it to me.” 

Steph stares at him a lot more incredulously. Then she grips his arm so she can shake him, just a little. Or a lot. 

She maybe nearly knocks over their froyo, but not the point, okay? 

“Robin, is Superboy a monsterfucker,” she demands. “Robin, you have to tell me if Superboy’s a monsterfucker. You can’t not tell me if Superboy’s a monsterfucker!” 

“I don’t know!” Robin hisses at her, sounding mortified. “I mean, maybe?! But like, considering some of the people who Cadmus has made and employed over the years and the fact Supergirl is literally protoplasmic goop with a personality and he’s half-alien, I don’t actually know how to judge that, okay? Maybe he just doesn’t automatically expect people to look human, I don’t know! He looked right at the Batman while he wasn’t bothering to pretend to have bones and didn’t even get weirded out or anything! And he made me a diamond specifically because he figured birds like shiny things and he offered to make me a nest when he found out I sucked at it and he caught Nightwing and called him ‘ma’am’ when Nightwing told him he was a ‘ma’am’ and he stalked me because he thought I’d like it!  And like, I managed to convince the Batman that he’s not a new Robin but I think now he maybe thinks he’s a stray cat or something? He called him a kitten. And like, scritched him. And Superboy didn’t even get weirded out by that!” 

“Oh my god, what is your life,” Steph marvels, putting a hand over her mouth as she grins in disbelief. This is the funniest friggin’ comedy of bullshit errors that she has ever even heard of. “You and the monsterfucker teen idol superhero you pulled by being a creepy little fake cryptid weirdo. When I’m your best woman at whatever freaky alien/cryptid-themed wedding you have, I’m telling this story in my toast. Fuck that, I’m telling the tabloids.” 

“Please do not,” Robin groans, hiding inside his wings again. “Look, he’s really–he’s nice, okay? He just has no idea what normal people are like and he’s also, like, trying to deduce what city spirit bird cryptids would think was, I don’t know, romantic specifically so he can hit on me and it’s just–it’s a lot, okay?! It’s just a lot!”

[corseque]

I honestly just wanted one single plot step that I could not predict given the 10 year wait. More behind the cut, I talk about Emet too, and I'm comparing his writing favorably to Solas' writing and why it worked better for me personally, but I am just talking about the writing skill that went into the games and not the dudes themselves, I love them both dearly of course. idk this is a mess and I am not going to edit it for clarity

For me, the game was a series of me saying

"ok I knew that. cool."

"oh yeah, I knew that. I guess it's good that the larger fandom knows about that now."

"nice, but yeah I already knew that too"

"that was something we've been talking about a lot for years"

"this thing they are acting like is a huge enormous reveal that the characters could not possibly have deduced through simply thinking about it in depth over the 10 years... the fans easily figured out by thinking about it in depth 10 years ago. So you would think his girlfriend would be able to figure it out more easily than we did. Like, why couldn't the game have been like 'oh lavellan already figured that out a while ago' it would have cost them nothing"

"this is something I've been thinking about for years, and now that it's being revealed, the companions' reactions to it are very irritating and jarring and unnecessary and I really dislike the experience I'm having right now, in this, the hour of my greatest triumph"

"this thing that is happening on my screen right now is something that I wrote an essay about 2 years ago describing how it would be a letdown if it happened without the correct setup"

"this way that they're characterizing Solas makes him less likable and less interesting than I have been finding him for all these years, and I have had people tell me 'no, he's simpler than you think' for years but I guess I was wrong, he really is simpler than I thought, so that fucking sucks. I wish I could take that information out of my brain."

"this thing is a retcon of information I have been thinking about for 10 years, and so I don't know how to follow along with this new direction, and I'm not sure if I even want to because it's not particularly interesting anyway"

"aw that was sweet"

"why is it like, so very impossible to have an honest back-and-forth with my favorite character about the dilemma that was most interesting to me about the previous game"

and then, as soon as, like, the other fans had caught up to the Solas lore that was really obvious from the other games, the game was.... over without anything surprising happening, or introducing a new element or plot point or perspective, or a real true twist (or two, or three) for those of us who have thought about it too hard for too long. It was very simple and easy, much, much, much, much easier than I was imagining. It all felt sort of like that Nicholson quote:

The thing was, the whole story was so interesting to think about because in 10 years, I couldn't figure out a good solution to it!!!!! It's why I was never able to write post-game fanfic about it. So I was stoked to find out some reveal we never knew about, some new information, in maybe a SERIES of steps of new information, that made the situation more complicated but also something that could be navigated by everyone involved. I know it was asking for a lot, but they had TEN YEARS, and they seemingly had set up the things they did in DAI on purpose, so surely they had some idea of a complex and satisfying narrative that would reconcile everyone.

The reason why I was expecting this is because FFXIV did a very similar story arc, which was started AND concluded WITHIN those 10 years (so it took the FFXIV team far less time to deliver as well). And the conclusion to the story in FFXIV did what I was expecting Dragon Age to do. So I thought, "holy shit, if this is the FFXIV version of this plot, how much more complicated is DA4 going to be!?!?" The DA devs also PLAYED FFXIV so they were completely aware, several years ago, of a satisfying story ending that was pretty darn similar.

People are probably going to think "oh, well Chelsea was disappointed because she spent too much time building it up in her head" but that's exactly it - I actually speculated and thought about FFXIV's story IN DEPTH NONSTOP for a year+ before its ending came out, and the ending absolutely blew me away. FFXIV Endwalker managed to introduce information and new story elements that I was not able to figure out in the YEAR I spent speculating on the ending of FFXIV's story. It took a complicated situation and revealed several several more facets to it that I was not able to predict, but were very interesting and thematically compelling, and took us all to surprising and climactic places that we could not have predicted.

Endwalker ("end" is in the title on purpose) too, was written to be THE ULTIMATE SATISFYING ENDING for a very long-running story in the exactly way that Veilguard SHOULD HAVE for Dragon Age, so while this complexity is being explored, FFXIV also gave catharsis to many different plot threads that have been built up through the previous expansions, until finally it ends with a bang. The story is desperately good to me, I loved it, it gave me closure for Dragon Age long before Veilguard was even revealed, and going back and looking at its story has made this whole thing far less painful for me.

So, I actually did not have a picture in my mind for how things SHOULD go. I just had the thought "I hope it's complicated and there are points of view or facts that we haven't before been exposed to, and the situation is resolved respectfully for Solas, not making him look like a fucking idiot (lol, the only thing I asked for). I don't even care what happens to Solas and Lavellan, I just need the story to be complicated and interesting to think about. Please, god, don't let it be "solas is wrong and he just needs to be convinced" because that's like the simplest story you could tell with this setup"

(btw they managed to tell Emet-Selch's story without making him seem like he's being an idiot on purpose or can never get anything right, and in fact the more the story goes on, the more you think of him as smart and capable and cool, so it is possible to write.... I wasn't asking for the entire moon)

And I played it and... yeah. Most of the story beats were more simple than I wanted them to be, a lot of them didn't make sense in my heart given the writing from Inquisition. (This is another essay, but if Solas' thematic story arc was always about him needing to let go of regrets, why was his personal quest the way it was? After that quest, doesn't he end up regretting not doing more....? Why did he never really talk about regret during Inquisition? If he was so trapped by regret, why was he able to do so many actions? It doesn't mesh well to me. The whole regret thing was very quarter-baked to me, I don't even like thinking about it.) His story never seemed like one that was as simple as being about one man's regrets, but then, I guess, it was always just about one man's regrets.

Emet-Selch's personal storyline (and the way it interacts with and affects the larger story) is very similar but much more cohesive and satisfying to me. It would be difficult to explain why without the aforementioned 5-hour essay. Emet-Selch's story IS about grief and anguish on a world-shaping scale in a similar way that Solas' was apparently always about letting go of regret, but Emet's story was also very pointedly and beautifully about that one theme for the entirety of his story from every tiny detail, from beginning to end - meanwhile, it seemed to me that they tried to introduce 'regret' as the main thrust of Solas' story only in the short story with the Regret demon onward.

From Inquisition just by itself, the closest I personally could get to a story theme for Solas was his inability to trust others hurting him and the world, but his trusting others in DA4 wasn't really addressed to my satisfaction. He is never required to trust anyone before the ending, he never opens up or makes himself vulnerable at all. People find out information about him, he never really dynamically opens himself. So the personal story I thought he had was never addressed at all, while a new one about regret was introduced that never made a ton of sense to me. And I don't think this is just because of my expectations - my reaction to FFXIV proves that I am able to meet good writing where it goes in surprising directions, as long as it's interesting and thoughtful and clear.

And I think this might be part of what people felt was off about the ending - Solas is sort of uninvolved in the revelations that are about him, and doesn't do much to be part of his own ending. Part of what I loved about Solas in Inquisition is that he is not controlled by you in any way, and so he feels like his own person with a very strong sense of character.

Anyway, Emet-Selch, in a very comparable and arguably more extreme plot position, is very involved in the revelations about himself, he always feels like a very strong character who cannot be affected by the player, and the whole situation is handled with deft emotion and care and delicacy. The story is comparatively very uninterested in litigating Emet-Selch or putting him on trial - the story allows you to simply feel the way that you feel in an organic way, and Emet's story spends that energy instead actually exploring his thematic material about grief and legacy, and the larger story theme of existentialism instead, in a way that is very refreshing and interesting. I've seen a lot of western stories tie themselves in knots over "redemption" and frankly it's almost never been interesting at all. Who cares about any of that. lol

(Now, I guess this is a matter of preference, because some people really like being able to shape a character's story, but idk I rewatched the ending of FFXIV and even though there wasn't a choice with Emet, because it isn't a branching story, his story felt more satisfying to me, maybe because there isn't a patronizing choice to be made for him. He is who he is, and he fulfills a very beautiful narrative role and purpose that no other character could in the story.)

I don't know how this could have been improved to me and still allowed players to choose Solas' ending for him, but I can actually think of a few different methods, none of which involve Rook condescendingly and patronizingly lecturing Solas as if Solas had never thought about a single aspect of this horrible situation he's in before that very moment that Rook lectures him lmfao.

All this to say... idk I'm writing this and I am not going back to edit it so it's stream-of-consciousness. But yeah

I just wanted the story to be complicated on a few more levels than I could have predicted. I genuinely don't care what happened, but I thought of a few twists like the Veil coming down and yeah, I was expecting A Single Twist or reveal to happen. In a Dragon Age game.

I wanted Solas to seem cool and capable and noble and smart, and actually feel like he was as old and experienced as he is.

I wanted a clear theme I could sink my teeth into

Like notice I didn't even say anything about Solavellan. Like I never in 100 years thought they were getting a happy ending where they were both alive in bodies, and I like that we got that, but I would honestly trade it for a more complicated story. To me, if a story is sad you can always write fanfic, but if a story isn't COMPLICATED, that's a much more urgent issue.

These 3 things DA4 didn't give me in a way that satisfied me but FFXIV did. anyway idk the way my hyperfixations work, I completely switch to a new subject so talking about Dragon Age is actually hard for me right now.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere L Lawliet Headcanons (General)

"I'm always two steps ahead of you, if not more, my sweetie." — L Lawliet.

❝ 📓 — lady l: watching Death Note again and commenting with a friend, I ended up thinking about it and decided to do some L headcanons, because I love him! 🖤 ​​Hope you like it :) 🤍

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking, unhealthy relationships, mention of kidnapping.

❝📓pairing: yandere!l lawliet x gender neutral!reader.

L Lawliet is very scary because he is very smart. A detective, the best detective. He is very good at reading people, at his deductions. There is no running away from him, he will always find you.

He was already stalking you before you even knew it. Before you even knew about his existence, L was already after you. Always behind you, watching you and gathering as much information about you as possible.

L knew about everything you. What was your childhood like, your fears, your desires, your dreams, everything. There is no privacy at all with him, he wants to be able to read you like a book and he does. There's nothing he can't figure out eventually.

He began to appear in your life slowly and normally, for you at least. He just seemed like an ordinary guy who needed some sleep and straightened out his back, but that was it. You had no idea who he really was, how obsessed he was with you.

L has morals that can be easily corrupted when he becomes obsessed. He believes that he is justice and he does in his way, which is not always the right way to do it. He firmly believes in justice above all else, his justice.

He doesn't believe that what he feels, that the things he did for you are considered wrong. L is delusional enough to believe he is right, but he will never do anything against your will. He respects you enough for that.

L is a natural stalker, it's one of his hobbies as a detective. Although he doesn't persecute you in the literal sense of the word, he usually sends Watari to watch you and accompany you somewhere. Whether it's going to school or work, he'll have his butler protecting you.

He won't risk your safety, especially with Kira on the loose. You're not a criminal, but L won't take any risks. He's never made a mistake before and it won't be you he makes a mistake with. Not when one mistake could cause your death.

Always very careful, L would only reveal himself to you when he was sure he would have your trust. He is very, very manipulative and will make you trust no one else but him. Not even your family could be as trustworthy as L. He would definitely lock you up at home if he could.

L has cameras in your house, all aimed at crucial points in your house. In your bedroom, in your living room, in your kitchen, everywhere there is a camera watching you. It had become a habit for him to spend hours a day looking at the images, waiting for you.

He's not the possessive type, but L has his limits and won't tolerate someone approaching you with ulterior motives. He is very quick to think, to deduce that there is someone interested in you and he will quickly push them away from you. He usually uses his manipulation for this. L is not in the habit of killing and will never do so unless it is really necessary.

Once his obsession consumed him for good, L could no longer remain but shadows. He could no longer remain in the background, watching you take risks every day, he needed to do something. And he did, during one night, you woke up in an unfamiliar room and with a pale guy, sitting in a strange way, staring at you intensely. You were finally with him.

You may think you're smarter than him, that you can get away from L, but he'll always be two steps ahead of you. You have nowhere to run. L would finally have you and he wouldn't let you go.